Worth Her Will
by Jason M. Lee
Summary: AU. Where ship girls aren't just summoned, but also born. Her brother speaks of how William D. Porter is more than her "bad luck".


_Kantai Collection_ © Kadokawa Games, DMM

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 **Worth Her Will**

Jason M. Lee

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Sis was... Well, all I can say was that sis was a klutz.

You'd think that what with being the oldest out of six kids, she'd be the most mature, graceful, elegant, blah blah blah one of us all.

Nope. She's tripped up the stairs (don't look at me like that, it's possible), she's tripped by hooking her foot on a carpet bump, had sprained her knee by just climbing down from a chair when trying to get something from one of the kitchen cabinets, knocked her other knee against her bed frame, scraped more times than the rest of us younger five combined, and... I could go on. Having shared most of the same classes with her, neither of us could escape the mocking whispers of how much of a "bad luck magnet" she was. She'd never show it, but it's kinda hard not to hear her crying into Mom's arms at night when we were supposed to be sleeping - thin walls separated the boys from the girls' rooms, and I'm a bit of a night owl.

But, the one thing that she was actually graceful at?

Swimming. Especially water polo.

Yeah, "graceful like a dolphin" or "graceful like a sea lion" are old cliches, but she was really good at it. Good enough to make it to our middle school's water polo team and win her first game against the school's most toughest rival. Mom and Dad insisted on taking us kids for swimming lessons at the local Y, Dad saying "When you live on a world that's three-quarters water and live right next to a mouth to the ocean, kids, you have GOT to learn how to move those arms and legs."

Despite me being her younger twin, my preference was history, but seeing her truly smile and literally dance in the water during practice made me happy. Sure, we have our fair share of sibling rivalry and ribbing, but we're still siblings. Whenever our younger siblings came to watch her games, they were always the loudest cheering her on, knowing that some of her smiles weren't real even if they didn't quite understand it yet. To them, she was never a "bad luck magnet". She was always "bwig sistah" who gave them piggy-back rides, helped them with homework, or helped out with the few meals whenever Mom and Dad were too busy. And Mom and Dad were always showing her extra support, especially with her water polo. Heck, I even overheard from some of the coaches that Olympic spotters were thinking of taking her on for the US water polo team once we enter high school!

Unfortunately, any potential Olympic dreams were blown to pieces.

Summer vacation and Dad had taken all of us to the beach that he had promised after the youngest was born. It was packed with other people, the water was frothy with foam, the sand was warm between toes, and the skies were perfect with a few dotted clouds alongside the occasional ocean breeze. Everyone was having fun.

Except... for some reason, sis kept looking about her as she swam out into the water to get back one of our beach balls.

"What's wrong?"

She shook her head, but that frown stayed on her face. It was different from her usual ones. More serious.

"Something's wrong, Davy. I can't explain why or what, but I know that something's wrong. Something bad."

Myths often said that twins shared a connection unique to them, that they can feel what the other is feeling at times. Part of me says it's fanciful stories that preceded much of the scientific stuff that either clarified or debunked them, but another part of me, probably that tiny little grain of truth, was taking it seriously.

"How wrong?"

"Like something awful..." She shuddered, even though it was a humid and hot day. "...is going to hit everyone here. And I mean everyone."

Okay, that? That spooked me, sending chills down my spine as I tread water. She's never like this.

Ever.

"We gotta go-"

As if she was telling the future, the skies started turning gray and stormy, causing much confusion to everyone on the beach, because the weather forecast had been for sunny skies.

"GET THEM OUT OF HERE!"

Grabbing my wrist, sis literally half-dragged, half-swum me towards the beach. As if they were psychic, Mom and Dad were already herding our brothers and sisters back to the parking lot. We could hear several swimmers wondering if it was an unexpected hurricane.

That's when the fire rained down on us.

When I could focus on seeing and hearing things again despite bobbing like a cork, I could barely make out swimmers frantically trying to get out of the water, barely hear the panicked screams that were literally drowned by what sounded like OPed fireworks, and... and I could now see the pale skin and oily black hair framing a pair of cold blue eyes that stared down at me with complete and utter contempt, with a metal barrel now pointing straight at me.

If blood could freeze, mine definitely went past the freezing point of water. I would have also been utterly terrified, but I think that my being slightly concussed is what probably prevented me from turning into a gibbering wreck.

Just as I thought I could see that orange glint lighting up inside the barrel-

 **"GET AWAY FROM HIM, YOU BITCH!"**

I will say that that punch was the most beautiful thing I had seen so far.

Finally righting myself up and turning my head, the sight that met my eyes will forever be burned into my memory for the rest of my life. And I guess our family as well.

No longer was she in that purple one-piece that she had worn today. No longer was her hair a wet ponytail.

A modified sailor's uniform with shorts that resembled the ones in the history books we had just went through, her ponytail now tied to the side and fluttering in the wind, and a weird cap that had metal rods sticking out of it on her head. Gunmetal parts with what looked like tiny cannons and tubes on another platform were clamped on to her waist, her left hand holding what looked like a miniature cannon, and she had what looked like a funnel on a backpack.

She was standing ON the water, sneakers with metal parts and red soles churning the water around them, bobbing a bit as she straightened up after clocking that Abyssal and glaring literal death at the oncoming black masses.

 **"USS WILLIAM D. PORTER, DD-579! NO ONE HURTS MY FAMILY AND GETS AWAY WITH IT!"**

Welp, I guess the kids at school can't call her "Wee Willie Woe" as much anymore.

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A/N: If readers find resemblance to _Blizzard of the Red Castle_ in the "natural born ship girl" aspect, you're correct. Inspiration is a wonderful thing, isn't it?


End file.
